


I Remain

by Daseyshipper



Category: When Calls the Heart (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cody-what-Cody?, F/M, Fix-It, Love Letters, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28543260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daseyshipper/pseuds/Daseyshipper
Summary: Henry and Abigail keep in touch while she's away, but troubles with the oil company may threaten their budding relationship. Also, the characters finally acknowledge WWI is happening.
Relationships: Henry Gowen/Abigail Stanton, Lucas Bouchard/Elizabeth Thatcher - Implied
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For all the work I did researching railway lines, conscription, the Canadian judicial system, and early 20th century light switches, I played pretty fast and loose with the speed of the Royal Mail in 1917, so please forgive me. I also couldn't find a place for Lee and Rosemary, so please assume they are on their L.A. trip. Thanks for reading!

The fire crackled at his feet. Where he should have been enveloped and comforted by its warmth, he was instead chilled by his thoughts, dark and unwelcome. The ledger books in his hand grew heavier each moment he stood there, almost as though they would drag themselves down into the waiting flames of their own accord.

But Henry knew there was no external force he could blame. The temptation was his own, from his mind and heart, just as the failures of the company were his, borne out of habits not unlearned and choices not fully considered.

“I knew I’d find you still working.”

The shock nearly made him drop the books into the blaze. Abigail’s lips turned up into a slight smile, pleased her unannounced return had the intended effect, but also amused at her own surprise reaction. Though she’d thought about little else on the trip here, she had still been relatively unprepared for what the long-awaited sight of Henry Gowen would do to her. Sleeves rolled up, hair wild, expression open and unprotected, he was even more handsome than she remembered. He hadn’t even spoken yet, but she already knew that once she heard that husky voice, she’d be in quite a bit of trouble.

No words escaped him though. None seemed deserving enough to be part of this moment. His gaze held hers and he dared not move, still believing she might be some sort of apparition. An angel appearing on his shoulder in his moment of weakness, who ironically brought him to an altogether different sort of temptation.

The tension of the moment made goosebumps form on Abigail’s skin. A shiver ran up her body and she took the opportunity to move away from the door and closer to him. She rubbed her cold hands together.

“Is this a bad time?” she asked nervously.

“Not anymore.”

The heat from his eyes did not waver, rivaling the fire behind him. He moved purposefully forward, as though intent on discerning the reality of her, until he was close enough to hear her ragged breathing. Not able to help himself, he reached his right hand out and brushed some hair behind her ear, leaving his thumb to stroke her cheek, still quite cold from the carriage ride. She’d come here first, he realized. Her cheeks reddened at his recognition of her eagerness and she cast her eyes down. He smiled and coaxed her chin back up.

“Welcome home, Abigail.”

_So much trouble,_ she thought as she melted into the kiss _._


	2. Chapter 1.5

_Dear Henry,_

_I hope you will forgive my writing but given your former position as mayor and your return to doing business in Hope Valley, you strike me as the best person for me to speak to about its affairs. I do not know how long I will be away, and I must admit that I will need someone to both inform and advise me of things I cannot be present to understand, such as the recent entanglement you had with Jesse._

_Bill’s decision, I am sure, was the correct one, as difficult as it is for Jesse and Clara, so understand that it is not my intention to revisit that issue. I am so glad for you and your success. It will bring such prominence to our town, and hopefully some much-earned happiness to you._

_…_

_Sincerely,_

_Abigail Stanton_

_\--_

_Dear Abigail,_

_You need never apologize for writing. A letter from you is a most welcome intrusion into the otherwise tedious operations that take up my work day._

_Though I imagine you will have heard it from Elizabeth, the tense situation at the saloon is the most talked about event here in Hope Valley._

_…_

_That is about the extent of matters here, as I know them. I am flattered you would find me useful in this regard even as I am once again viewed here with some suspicion._

_I hope your mother is doing as well as she can be. She is lucky to have you there with her._

_Kindest regards,_

_Henry Gowen_

_\--_

_Dear Henry,_

_I will be honest, I did have other reasons for writing to you over others despite the recent conflict. First, a letter to you is not so likely to be intercepted by Rosemary. Second, a letter to you is not so likely to be thought or acted upon in particularly obstinate ways. Finally, and most sincerely, I trust we now can consider ourselves friends, and so you should know I have faith in you, and harbor none of these so-called suspicions._

_My faith grew even greater when Elizabeth wrote to me about the letter Bill discovered. I know you will consider this another failure on your head, Henry, but I do not. The terrible position you were put in does not overshadow for me your good intentions. Our hearts always carry the weight of past regrets more heavily than they should._

_And so I am glad for the healing of Clara and Jesse’s hearts as well, and how they will continue to bring each other joy._

_Sincerely,_

_Abigail Stanton_

\--

_Dear Abigail,_

_I am humbled by your faith as always, and ever appreciative of your forgiveness and friendship._

_But enough time and thought has been spent on my account, and you have other concerns. It seems, for instance, that the town may be in need of a new nurse…_

_…_

_I will leave you with the most fantastic of the occurrences. Tonight, Hope Valley saw its very first moving picture. It is a new era indeed. The wonder of it was marred only by the fact that you were not there to see it. I think you would have loved it, Abigail._

_Kindest regards,_

_Henry_

\--

_Dear Henry,_

_You seem to offer everyone’s news but your own. I was contacted by a reporter who told me they were doing a profile on you for Business and Industry Magazine. How very exciting! I am anxious to see it, though I will tell you I grew uncomfortable with the reporter’s many questions about your involvement with the mine. I told her in no uncertain terms that while the town may have suffered at the hands of Pacific Northwest, that you personally were among the most treasured of our residents and we couldn’t be more proud of_ (words scratched out) _the contributions you’ve made. I hope I can find a copy here so I can boast about our little town._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Abigail_


	3. Chapter 2

“Ah!”

Clara jumped back from the pan, shaking her hand to fan the burn. She was not generally a clumsy cook, but Bill had not arrived yet to help with breakfast and she’d been worrying about how early Jesse had gone into the office when a customer came in and startled her.

The customer, Kevin the blacksmith, looked at her with some concern and confusion at what had happened.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” she said, trying not to wince in pain.

“Need some help?”

Clara whirled around. “Abigail!” she shouted, throwing herself around the older woman who had appeared at the foot of the stairs.

Abigail laughed. “It’s so good to see you, Clara. Oh, excuse me!” she cried in mock horror, pulling away. “I mean, Mrs. Flynn,” she corrected, with a serious look and a curtsy.

Clara feigned modesty and giggled.

Abigail smiled sadly. “I am so sorry I couldn’t be there, you know.”

“Don’t give it another thought,” Clara said, waving her still-throbbing hand. “You’re here now, and for some reason Bill isn’t, so yes, _please_ help!”

“Absolutely. But first, something for that burn,” Abigail said, disappearing up the stairs again.

***

“Bill!”

The disheveled judge stopped in the street and turned to see Lucas Bouchard trotting over to him.

“Good morning, Lucas. I’m running late to help Clara, is everything alright?”

“I’m not sure. Unfortunately, I need to report that I saw Henry Gowen leaving town earlier this morning,” Lucas told him with a grimace.

Both men waited for the other to say something. “And?” Bill asked impatiently.

“The books, Bill,” Lucas reminded him. “He never showed them to me. And now he’s left to do who knows what. I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, for my sake and Elizabeth’s sake, but I just don’t think this is a good sign.” He shuffled uncomfortably and finally sighed. “I’m going to have to move forward with the litigation.”

***

Bill finally made his way to the café’s kitchen, now fully exasperated.

“I’m sorry, Clara, it’s been a weird morning. Have you managed with the breakfast so far?”

“Oh, yes,” she smiled, scraping bacon across a pan. “In fact, I don’t think we’ll need you at all.”

Bill’s face scrunched up, puzzled. “We?” He looked up at the sound of the footsteps on the stairs and practically hooted when he saw the woman coming down.

“My _goodness!_ ” Bill said, scooping a surprised Abigail up off the stairs and around to the kitchen floor. “We have missed _you_!”

Abigail laughed and handed Clara the cream for her hand before giving Bill another, more proper hug. “Hello, Bill. I’ve missed you all too.”

“Is Cody with you?” Bill asked.

“Yes, he’s getting ready and I’ll take him to school in a bit.” The bell on the door rang again, and Abigail gave Bill a look. “Let’s take care of this breakfast while we catch up.”

Abigail shared that her mother had passed a little over two weeks ago and she’d been busy with all of the arrangements and then the trip back had taken several days. She apologized for the drop-off in her letters in that time – not, of course, enumerating all parties to whom she’d been writing said letters. Bill and Clara shared their sympathy, and said it was a great surprise to have her back.

“Now if only people weren’t also _leaving_ unannounced,” Bill spat, taking his frustration out a bit harshly on a dirty dish.

“What do you mean?” Abigail asked, while Clara surreptitiously slid the dish out from Bill’s hand.

“Henry Gowen left town this morning,” he explained.

Abigail was bewildered at the concern, though not willing to share that she had knowledge of the excursion. “I know you’ve often found issue with Henry’s activities, Bill, but taking a trip is hardly illegal.”

“No, but he’s been keeping his financials from Lucas, and since there’s been trouble with the company, Lucas is suing him.”

Clara and Bill were still occupied and could not see Abigail’s face fall. “I don’t understand. What could be so serious that he wouldn’t— that Lucas would need to take legal action?”

“I’m not at liberty to go into specifics, but it’s not been a secret around Hope Valley that Henry has been struggling to pay his men,” Bill said.

Clara nodded sadly. “Yes, Jesse’s heard as much from his friend William who works for Gowen Petroleum. Apparently Lucas has had to write some personal checks.”

Abigail tried to control her worry as Bill continued. “But the problems of the business are beside the point. Lucas, despite all he’s been doing to help, is being cut off from information. Information he should be entitled to as a substantial minority investor.”

“I see,” Abigail said brusquely. She could feel a small swell of anger rising in her, having to hear about this from Bill after all that had changed in her and Henry’s relationship. Still, she pushed the disappointment and uncertainty down and defended Henry. “Well, for all we know Henry went out of town to try to improve business. Which is what he should be doing, if there’s so much financial trouble. And Lucas, well,” she sputtered, trying with difficulty to justify the other part of the story, “he should just… just… wait!”

“Wait?” Bill cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Yes!” She kept her eyes fixed on the breakfast platter she was constructing. “Didn’t poor Henry just have to go through another silly lawsuit and it turned out to be nothing at all? I’m sure that there’s a reasonable explanation for this as well.”

Bill gave a look of disbelief at Clara, who threw her hands up, at a loss to understand her friend’s outburst. He spoke sharply back to Abigail.

“Well, there may be a reasonable explanation, but it will have to come out in litigation, because it’s being filed as we speak. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out to you, _Mayor Stanton_ ” – Abigail flinched at the words – “that whatever inexplicable fondness you continue to have for Henry Gowen, this case will impact the livelihood of several people in this town!”

“Your lectures on impartiality, _Judge Avery_ , are the only thing here that is inexplicable!” Abigail shot back. She slammed a piece of bacon onto the plate and stormed out to the dining area, leaving a stupefied Bill and a very uneasy Clara.

***

_“The timing has turned out to be quite poor – I have to go away on business tomorrow. A meeting in Edmonton.”_

_“Oh, I see. I’m sorry, I wanted it to be a surprise. I couldn’t write much once Mother passed, and then I thought I should just head back here as soon as I could.”_

_“No, it’s fine,” he smiled, rubbing her arms. “I did wonder why you stopped writing though,” he continued hesitantly. “I understand now, with everything you needed to do, but the last couple of weeks, I thought it might be – “_

_“No,” she stopped him, laying a comforting hand on his face. “It wasn’t that.”_

_The way she looked at him with such gentle affection, here in his arms after so long, he nearly cried. Instead he kissed her again, his own affection rougher and more desperate than hers._

_“Henry,” she said when they parted, short of breath, “this is… I don’t know what this is yet. But I know we have to figure it out together, so let’s wait and talk when you get back. Will that be alright?”_

_“I’ve waited 7 years for you, Abigail. If I have to wait two more days, well, they’ll be the longest two days of my life, but I’d do anything for you.”_

***

With Cody the most enthusiastic he’d ever been to go to school, Abigail was having a tough time sorting out her thoughts. Thankfully they came upon the combination church and schoolhouse just as she had reached her limits on the chatter.

“Cody!” Philip yelled. Everyone turned to look and the towheaded boy ran from her side into the crowd of children. Abigail smiled widely as she too hurried toward an astonished Elizabeth.

“Oh my goodness, Abigail!” The teacher cried, embracing her long-missed friend. “When did you get back?”

“Oh, very late last night, well beyond an appropriate time for visits,” Abigail answered, a tinge of embarrassment making her avert her eyes. “I sent Cody right up to bed, checked on the Mayor’s office, and then dropped off to sleep myself.”

“And your mother?” Elizabeth asked, knowing the likely answer.

“She passed. It was a bit rough at the end, but she lived a good life,” Abigail said, more to comfort Elizabeth than because it was true. The days back east were long and difficult in the hours her mother was awake, and dark and lonely in the hours when her mother fitfully slept. She had Cody, of course, but Abigail needed her own comfort. Someone for whom she did not have to put on a brave face. It was in those moments when she silently cried that she began to notice it was Henry’s arms that she saw in her mind, wrapped warmly around her.

It was a strange thing that this had become a common imagining for her, as she’d never embraced Henry in that way, and yet it felt like a familiar memory. She realized that, though she had never articulated it to herself in this way, there had been many times their eyes had met and held each other’s in a way that created almost the same sensation.

She remained somewhat distant in her letters, even though – or perhaps entirely because – she waited for the post with greater interest each day and thought often of their conversations, real and imagined. On the one hand she wished her mother was so modern and fortunate to have had a telephone, but on the other she enjoyed the old-fashioned romanticism of a courtship by correspondence.

 _Courtship?_ She’d caught herself one day as she was about to open Henry’s latest letter. My goodness, how silly she was. A woman of her age taking friendly letters and spinning them into fantasies about holding hands with someone at a moving picture show. It was utterly absurd. She laughed at herself as she opened the letter, but her amusement faded when she recognized a very wicked and irrational feeling roiling ever so slightly in her chest: jealousy.


	4. Chapter 2.5

_Dear Abigail,_

_If you’ve found a copy of the magazine, you’ll know that I was passed over for someone much more photogenic._

_The reporter, as you said, seemed fixated on tearing up the past, so in some ways it was for the best, though I can’t say it would not be deserved. I appreciate your kind words, of course, but I hope you’ll also permit me to say that I miss the singular way you have of dressing down those in need of it, even if I was often at the receiving end. I hope to be able to see it again in the near future._

…

_Yours sincerely,_

_Henry_

_\--_

_Dear Henry,_

_I think Cody would likely disagree with you about how welcome it is to see me dressing anyone down, though I don’t think he would argue my talent at it._

_…_

_Finally, while it was a loss to me not to have an opportunity to see you in some form after all this time, I daresay that you are right that Fiona would be most appealing to the gentlemen of the business world in terms of selling magazines. Those of us who are aging widows can only look back on the days of such admiration._

_With kindest regards,_

_Abigail_

_\--_

_Dear Abigail,_

_I will keep this letter short as I want nothing to distract from its intention, which is to tell you, frankly, that you are the most captivating woman I have come across in all my life, and there is not a single woman on this earth more deserving of every admiration._

_And I remain yours, faithfully,_

_Henry Gowen_


	5. Chapter 3

Henry had left Abigail with more confidence than he’d felt. There was still a part of him – a lot of him – that was terrified that Abigail, back in familiar surroundings with familiar people in the regular light of day, would realize she’d made a mistake.

It was funny. He often deprecated himself to Abigail and she would in turn respond with her characteristic forgiveness and kindness. It made him feel comforted in the moment, but his past sins and injury to her always haunted him. But to hear Abigail ever malign herself in the same way, as though she was nothing special, was more than he could bear. And to think some insensitive remark on his part had caused it? He felt compelled to soothe her. And something about the safety of the distance, or the way she had spoken about him in her letters, or the times he’d passed Jesse and Clara or Faith and Carson on their walks, or possibly the anxiety caused by his mounting financial problems, which led to the several scotches he’d had that night as he sat down to read her letter… something pushed him to take the risk.

But was it really? Had it not been clear for some time now that he was quite deeply in love with her? And self-deprecating as he might be, he was not oblivious to her slowly growing affection for him. His aching for her had become too great in her absence to be quelled by continuing platitudes and tentative advances. And last night - getting to hold her, to actually taste her, to feel that in her gaze there was a restrained wanting that he desperately wanted to sate – it was somehow even more powerful and heartrending than the anticipation of it. To hope for her love was suffocating but to have it was breathtaking.

But now all of Hope Valley and its history again lay between them once again. And frankly, so did the present. He knew he was gambling again, but he hoped both Abigail and Lucas’ faith in him would hold in the days it would take him to close this deal.

As the train pulled into a station a few stops before Edmonton, he could see a crowd buzzing around a newsboy, but he was unable to make out the newsie’s hollers through the clamor. A man rushed from the crowd with his paper and boarded the train, sitting fortuitously across the aisle from Henry. When the man threw the paper open at the fold, Henry could see the headline in large block letters.

**CONSCRIPTION FOR CANADA**

***

Elizabeth stepped into the mayor’s office, smiling at the sight of her friend batting a hair out of her face as she went through a stack of files.

“Knock knock,” she said tentatively.

Abigail glanced up quickly. “Oh, hi Elizabeth,” she said, distracted. After a beat, she looked up again in astonishment. “Do not tell me it is lunch time already!?”

“I’m afraid so,” the brunette nodded apologetically.

“I’ve got to get back to the café, I suppose. Sorry, Elizabeth.”

“I understand. I just wanted to tell you I went by the saloon to talk with Lucas about the lawsuit you mentioned this morning. I believe that he didn’t want it to come to this, but he felt that he had to protect himself and the employees.”

“I know,” Abigail sighed. “It’s an awful feeling when you’ve placed your trust in someone and you don’t know whether you’re about to be hurt by them. When they’ve put you in a position, perhaps, where you have to question your involvement and step back. Maybe it all just happened too fast.”

Elizabeth heard something more personal in Abigail’s words, spoken wistfully as though to an unseen person.

When Abigail noticed that Elizabeth wasn’t saying anything, she hurried to correct herself. “The oil, I mean. The drilling and everything with Jesse and the expansion in the town. None of us really know much about this business yet.”

“Mm, Lucas’s concern is that that includes Henry. I do hope he’s wrong and it’s just some initial trouble. But speaking of Lucas, I’ve got to tell you, Abigail… he asked me to meet him at the library this evening.”

“Is that right?” the older woman smiled knowingly.

Elizabeth blushed. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Oh, Elizabeth, you wrote of Lucas the whole time I was away, do you really want it to be nothing?”

Elizabeth gave a coy smirk. “I’ll let you get to the lunch rush.”

***

That evening Henry settled into his lodgings. Unimpressive as they were, since he could not afford much at the moment, they were a welcome relief after his long travels and an afternoon of gladhanding.

He had a small dinner in the dining area and read back over the paper. Voluntary enlistment had stalled but the war had not, and so the Prime Minister intended to push a Military Service Act to draft men ages 20 to 45 into the war, with some exceptions. Though not a particularly welcome political development, there was little he could do personally and it would, for better or worse, hopefully be beneficial to him professionally. The officials had told him they would call in a few days with their answer, once they’d tested the oil themselves and met with other suppliers.

His bed that night was no emptier than it usually would have been, but felt lonelier all the same. To finally have Abigail and know what it was like to kiss her, and then not be able to do it again – not to know if he would even get to do it again – was, quite simply, torture. He wished he could call her but he had promised her space and he knew very well that the fact that he’d called would spread quickly. They had to continue being careful until they knew what they were doing.


	6. Chapter 3.5

_“Mr. Gowen, I have Mayor Stanton on the line.”_

_Flustered, Henry stuttered, “Oh, uh, yes, please put her through.” A click. “Abigail?”_

_“Yes, hello, Henry, it’s Abigail Stanton,” she said in a formal voice, speaking more loudly and clearly than was necessary._

_She was relieved when he caught on immediately. “Mrs. Stanton, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he said just as formally._

_“Well, I’ve been reading about the barrel prices. It says here – “_

_They were both silent for a moment as they heard Florence disconnect._

_“Henry?” Abigail said more softly._

_“Hi,” he said warmly._

_“Thank goodness it’s only 10 seconds. I don’t know a thing about barrel prices.”_

_Henry chuckled. “Let’s hope one of us does.” Another beat of silence. “It’s good to hear you, Abigail.”_

_The tenderness in his voice affected her more than it ought and she squirmed, playing awkwardly with the phone cord. “I don’t know that I’ll be able to call again, since it’s quite far to a communal phone and you know I’ve got Cody and Mother, and who even knows how much it’s costing for me to stumble around like this – “_

_“Abigail,” he stopped her. His voice was firm but welcoming and it seemed to hum over her skin. She sighed._

_“I just wanted to hear you,” she started tentatively. ” To hear your voice. Is that crazy?”_

_He didn’t answer right away. She fidgeted nervously. “Henry?”_

_He spoke with an impassioned start. “I meant every word of that letter, you know. And I mean every word that isn’t in it too.”_

_She squeezed her eyes shut, restraining whatever was threatening to bubble up. “It’s a bit naïve, isn’t it, to pretend we haven’t been inching toward this for years…” Her voice trailed off, making it more of an inevitable observation than a question._

_“Maybe. I was afraid I’d been imagining it. I’m afraid I’m imagining this right now,” he said with a wry smile in his voice._

_Abigail’s face softened. “You’re not. But I have to go,” she said regretfully._

_“Can I write to you again?”_

_She smiled. “You’d better.”_


	7. Chapter 4

“Good morning, Elizabeth,” Abigail called as the other woman ushered children into the building.

“Good morning, Abigail!” Elizabeth was smiling but her expression turned quickly to worry when she looked at Abigail’s face. “Oh my goodness, is everything alright?” she asked, rushing down the school steps.

Abigail thought she had done a decent job dressing up her tiredness and puffy eyes but evidently she had not.

“Oh yes, I’m fine,” she said, swiping at her face self-consciously. “It’s just, you know…”

“Your mother?” Elizabeth offered sympathetically.

Abigail’s face flushed with guilt. Elizabeth mistook this for another bout of tears coming on, and hugged her friend.

“Thank you, Elizabeth. Oh, but don’t concern yourself with my melancholy when you were positively beaming when I arrived!” She looked around quickly to check that no children were listening. “How was your evening with Lucas?”

Elizabeth grinned so rapidly and widely, Abigail nearly fell over from the intensity of it.

“Oh Abigail,” she squealed. “I’m so happy.”

***

Henry nearly leapt out of the carriage when it pulled into Hope Valley, insomuch as he could leap. It was nearly dark, but he saw lights on in the café and some other storefronts. He checked his watch and noted that he’d have just the right amount of time to go home and freshen up before catching Abigail at closing when the place cleared out.

She had not seen him disembark down the road, so he was able to watch her unnoticed through the café window. He beamed with pride as she moved around the tables, smiling as she tipped more tea into an emptied cup. _That beautiful woman there_ , he thought. _That beautiful woman chose me._

“Henry.”

Henry’s face fell as the decidedly less beautiful form of Bill Avery came to stand directly in front of him. Henry took a deep breath, stifling his annoyance.

“What can I do for you, Bill?” he asked gruffly, putting his hands in his pockets.

“You can show up in my courtroom tomorrow at noon,” Bill answered smugly.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Lucas saw you skip town and filed suit to see the books,” Bill explained, handing him a handful of paper. Henry groaned. “Hey, I was half-expecting you not to come back. Lucas at least gave you that much credit. You can answer before we proceed with the settlement hearing.”

“But tomorrow, Bill? I haven’t even had time to get my affairs in order.”

“You’ve had plenty of time. That’s why Lucas is suing.”

Henry looked away.

“Tomorrow. Noon.” Bill said emphatically, leaving to cast his shadow elsewhere.

When Henry looked back to the café, Abigail was staring at him. She was not smiling. He cast his eyes down and she turned away.

***

She’d left the back door open while she cleaned up. Had she done it on purpose? She didn’t know. Either way, a meticulously groomed Henry appeared in the doorframe soon after she’d sent Clara home for the night.

She saw him before he said anything, but shot him a look and kept moving through the kitchen, which was enough for him to understand what had transpired in his absence.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Abigail. I didn’t want you to think less of me just as things were going well.”

“Think less of you?”

“You kept saying you were happy for my success and you were proud of me. How was I supposed to tell you I was on the brink of bankruptcy?”

She stared at him incredulously. “Do you think I care about your _money_ , Henry?”

“I wanted to be able to provide – “ he stopped, pained. “To provide… jobs. And opportunity for this town. I wanted you to think I was doing something worthwhile.”

She shook her head sadly and panic rose in his chest. “Why did you leave?” she said harshly.

“Just as I told you, I had a meeting.” He spoke earnestly. “A deal I hope will help save the company, and I wanted to know if I could do it before I –“

“Before you what? Had to tell the truth?”

He hung his head. She was right. But it still hurt after all they’d said to each other.

“I don’t have any excuse for that that isn’t selfish. I didn’t want to lose everything I was just starting to gain, here, and with you. I convinced myself that I just needed a little more time and it wouldn’t matter. But I thought…” he trailed off.

“You thought what, Henry?”

He knew his anguish was going to sound like an accusation, but it gnawed at him just the same. It was always too good to be true, wasn’t it? It was always going to end like this.

“I thought you said you’d have faith in me.”

The slap came quickly. Tears of rage shone in Abigail’s eyes.

“How dare you.”

He did not act astonished, or bring a hand to his face. He did not say her name, or look for another way to apologize. He had never found the apology that could span decades. He simply nodded, briskly, and left.

***

Abigail moved erratically through the kitchen, finishing up her work. The more she found to do, the less time she had to think. She polished utensils, scrubbed door frames, even dusted the ceiling fan, which gave her an excuse to rinse the pots all over again. Halfway through a stock pot, her hands began to slow and she gave in to the breakdown.

***

There were a few moments after he’d left when he thought he might be able to hold it together. Then he heard the door shut forcefully behind him.

It was in this state of trying to swallow back the slowly rising bile of his grief until he was out of sight that he came across Constable Grant.

“Henry? Everything alright?” the other man asked with concern.

“Oh yes, thank you, Constable,” he said, trying to wave him off.

Nathan followed him for a step. “I heard about the lawsuit.”

Henry let out a sardonic laugh. “Just the nature of business, my friend.” He looked up, gritting his way into a smile. Nathan did not smile back. The Mountie, in fact, looked about as miserable as Henry felt and he felt compelled to offer the man some similar compassion.

“Are you off duty, Constable? Can I offer you a drink?”

Nathan’s face tightened. “I appreciate it, but I don’t have any particular desire to go to the saloon just now.”

Henry laughed again, using it as an excuse to wipe at his watering eyes. “Well, I think I’m _persona non grata_ in the saloon just now,” he pointed out. “I have some brandy in my office.” Nathan hesitated. “Come on,” Henry said, “we both seem like we need it.”

Once Henry had gotten the fire going and served them both, the two men sunk into their chairs and their shared misery.

“So,” the older man raised his glass. “To women?” he said inquisitively.

Nathan smirked and clinked his snifter against the other. “That obvious?”

“We pitiful souls can recognize our own.”

Nathan blew out a breath. “Elizabeth did me the courtesy of letting me know that she and Lucas are now officially courting.”

“I see,” Henry nodded in recognition. “Well, Elizabeth has been quite kind to me these past few years, so I can begrudge her no happiness, but it’s a hell of a wound.”

“I always kind of knew, I suppose,” Nathan sighed. “I’m a Mountie and I don’t think she was ever going to be comfortable with that. Too much history.”

Henry raised an eyebrow in understanding. “Jack’s death was very difficult. Not a lot of people would be willing to go through that twice, even if it’s just the specter of it.”  
  
“I still regret not putting myself out there more, wondering if it might have been different. I was trying to be careful and give her time to deal with the past, but I didn’t see the window closing. I was a fool.”

Both men were silent, staring into their drinks.

Nathan suddenly gripped the arm of the chair. “But I’m doing all the talking! What’s your story?” he asked Henry.

“Isn’t it always the same story, just a different fool?” he smiled. “You stood back too far; I rushed in too close. You were too selfless; I was too selfish.” A pause. “I had it. Everything I ever wanted, right there, and I made a mess of it like I’ve made a mess of things my whole life.” He took another sip from his glass and looked contemplatively into the fire, nearly forgetting his companion.

Suffering from his own regret, Nathan could manage few words of comfort. “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, isn’t that what Tennyson said?” he offered half-heartedly.

“Tennyson never loved _her_.”

Nathan cast a sad, sympathetic glance down into his brandy. “I’ll let you prepare for tomorrow. Thank you for the brandy and the company, Henry.”

Henry stood up with him and they said their goodbyes. Running a hand through his hair, Henry turned to his desk, hoping some magical check or bequeathing from a long-lost relative might have appeared in the day’s post. Instead, the pile his man had retrieved from Ned that morning held little of interest, as he’d already read the day’s paper on the train and the eagerly awaited letters from Abigail had long since ceased. And now he’d likely lost her for good.

He exploded suddenly into a yell, shoving the papers off the desk with so much force they flew past the wastebin into the wall. Henry leaned onto the now-empty surface for support as his body convulsed into silent sobs.


	8. Chapter 4A

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be aware: this is not an additional chapter but an alternative, smuttier version of the Henry/Abigail cafe scene in Chapter 4. It doesn't get quite explicit enough to move the rating up to M in my opinion, but if smut is not your thing, please skip this chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please see chapter summary!

_Alternative Chapter 4 "slap" scene:_

The slap came quickly. Tears of rage shone in Abigail’s eyes.

“How dare you.”

Henry turned to stare back at her, his eyes fiery and unflinching. She slapped him again. And again. Each time he locked back on to her, taking every hit with a stoic strength, his jaw stiffening. The fourth time, she grabbed the hair on the back of his head and forced him down, pressing her mouth roughly against his. Both made whimpering noises, some strange mixture of discomfort and relief. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and hoisted her up onto the counter, separating himself from her kiss as little as possible and hurrying back to taste her as soon as he could, now guiding her lips open with his in a heated flurry of kisses that made her mind spin.

He moved to nip and suck at her neck and she threw her head back with a rapturous exhale. She could feel herself throbbing under her layers of clothing as she grabbed at his arms and felt the muscular build that ran up across his broad shoulders, always hidden under his own vests and coats.

“Henry, the door,” she choked out.

“I can’t, I can’t leave you,” he said, a desperate tone in his voice, his face buried against her.

“Henry,” she begged, but he did not let up, only sucking at her more eagerly.

“Just get the lights, no one will see.”

Abigail reached a hand out for the push-button switch as Henry came back up to capture her mouth again. Her hips slid forward as she fumbled for the switch and the combination of movements meant his body was now repositioned firmly between her legs. Just as she found the button, Henry grabbed her by the backside, pulling her forward. A deep moan escaped her and the sound made him...

“Mom?”

…instantly drop his shoulders in defeat. “Everything’s fine, Cody!” Abigail called up the stairs.

The dazed ecstasy of the moment removed, she remembered where she was. She reluctantly pushed Henry away, even though moments ago she’d been ready to beg for his thick fingers to push inside of her, imagining how good that thrust of pain would feel while she was soaking wet. She reddened, recalling the frantic collage of thoughts.

Henry moved back, catching his breath and clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry, that was very improper of me,” he said, thinking it was what he should say. She did not respond, and he saw that she looked ashamed. “Please don’t imagine I think you’re some sort of loose woman, Abigail. I could never think ill of you.”

The glare in response caught him by surprise. “Unlike me, you mean,” she observed sharply. “Where all I do is think ill of you.”

“Abigail -”

“No. You’re right,” she said, getting herself back to the floor. “This was completely inappropriate. All of it. I don’t know what I was thinking, getting wrapped up in some idea of us that would never work back here in reality.”

Henry’s face opened into a puppy-dog expression. Abigail took a deep breath and steeled herself.

“I’ll see you in court tomorrow, Mr. Gowen. Goodnight.”

She turned away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have some Season 1-adjacent ideas rolling around that would venture pretty well into smutty Henrigail territory. Planning to write that next, so keep an eye out if you enjoyed this alternative chapter!


	9. Chapter 4.5

_May 1, 1917_

_I am not one to write (or speak) in any eloquent or florid language. I have always been careful with my words and what I am willing to express, at least until recently. But seeing as how that was the best error I’ve made in a life full of them, it seems right I should continue. And if ever there was a woman who should be the recipient of a great love letter, it is you, my dearest Abigail._

_It is amazing to me that I am able to write those words and have you see them and perhaps even welcome them... My. Dearest. Abigail._

_I suspect you know that those words have stirred in my soul for quite some time. I have been a lonely man sometimes by deserved consequence, but also often by choice. It has long been obvious to me that no other conversation, caress, or countenance could touch me as deeply as the simple grace of the briefest glance from you. I harbor no illusions that attentions from me are similarly valuable to you, being as you are the best of women and rightfully held in high esteem by so many, but if my attentions are of even the smallest interest to you, then it is beyond what I could have ever imagined, and I am humbled by the blessing of it._

_I am humbled, indeed, by the blessing I have received to simply exist alongside of you, at the same time on this earth. To experience your kindness, your faith, your cleverness, your beauty, your fire. I have spent this life since I met you on the tips of my toes, striving to remain in sight of you, and it is an agony I would not trade for anything._

_Whatever our past has been – and I regret it always – I hope you will permit me in this moment to share this dream I have for our future. That there might be a time where I can gaze on you openly and not have to look away. That in your moments of trouble I might whisper love to soothe you. That in your moments of happiness I might embrace you as you laugh. That you might look at me one day across a table, shaking your head because I am grumbling behind my newspaper while you are trying to work, and you will say in your amused way, “Henry, please.” And I will always please, because my ruined heart breaks and mends again each time you say my name._

_I know that I have promised you a great love letter, but now, having attempted it, I do not see how any words, weak especially as mine are, can do you the justice of conveying the strength of feeling you inspire in me. I can only hope that I will have the opportunity to compensate for this failing for all the rest of my days._

_Yours, always and in every way,_

_Henry_


	10. Chapter 5

Henry arrived at the courtroom about 15 minutes ahead of time, though still flustered. He hung up his hat and saw that Lucas was already there, and Elizabeth next to him. Their conversation appeared to be solemn, but soft at the same time. Lucas had a hand on Elizabeth’s arm, reassuring her of something. She gazed up at him, ultimately giving him a resigned nod, and a tender kiss on the cheek.

Elizabeth walked back then and saw Henry at the door. The older man tried to hide the fact that he’d been watching the new couple, and Elizabeth, in turn, seemed to be embarrassed to be caught showing public affections, particularly to a man that was opposing her friend.

“Good morning, Henry,” she said softly.

“Good morning, Elizabeth.” He smiled to demonstrate he had no hard feelings about her position.

“I’m sorry I was not able to stay Lucas’ hand on this, but I want you to know that he is a good man who respects you as the same, Henry. This is simply a business disagreement, but you are and will always remain our friend.”

Henry was quite touched by the kindness. “There is no reason for you to take on the weight of my mistakes, Elizabeth. You have no blame here in the slightest. I am honored by your friendship. And I pray that I can do right by both you and Lucas today.”

The young woman blushed a bit at the pairing of her name with her new beau’s and began to take her leave from the proceedings.

“Elizabeth?” Henry stopped her.

“Yes?”

He reached out and gently held her hand. In a quiet, gravelly voice, he asked, “Does he make you happy?”

Elizabeth’s eyes shone. She spoke slowly, trying to control her sudden emotion. “It feels as though he has taken all my broken pieces and made a work of art.”

Henry pulled her into a hug and knew. _All things work together for good._

***

The initial formalities had passed and Bill was saying now, “Mr. Gowen, I am in receipt of your answer, which frankly is unorthodox and I am unsure why I am entertaining it.”

“I apologize if my answer was improper, your honor, but I did not have time to retain counsel,” Henry smirked.

Bill narrowed his eyes. “You write here that you admit to the allegations outlined in the complaint, but that you wish to proceed with the settlement conference anyway?”

“That’s correct, your honor.”

“What is it exactly you want to settle besides showing Mr. Bouchard the books?” Bill asked perplexed. Lucas looked similarly at a loss.

“I’d like to formally offer Mr. Bouchard not only the financial information as requested, but also the position of general manager, and majority ownership of Gowen Petroleum at the initial investment rate.”

“ _What?”_

Henry continued undeterred. “I will retain a minority stake, and otherwise only ask in return that I be granted the privilege of a position as sales manager. I’m good at it, I know the players, and Mr. Bouchard will need some assistance in learning the oil business.”

Lucas fell backward against his seat, completely flummoxed.

Bill looked back and forth, mouth agape. “Mr. Bouchard, do you want to agree to this settlement?” he sputtered.

Lucas thought a moment, still awe-struck. “It’s not without its temptations. However, my recent change in romantic circumstances puts me in a more conservative position than usual in regard to risk. May I see the financials first?”

“Don’t ask me, this is barely a legal proceeding anymore!” Bill answered, throwing up his hands.

Henry took several books from in front of him on the table and handed the stack to Lucas. “You’re welcome to them, but I should tell you there is one new account not yet reflected,” he said.

“Oh?”

“As of this morning, Gowen Petroleum is the Northwest regional supplier of oil for the Canadian Corps.”

***

“To the continued prosperity of our business,” Lucas cheered, raising his glass of whiskey.

“To all continued prosperity,” Henry answered in kind.

They took the celebratory first sips of their drinks, sitting on opposite sides of a table in the saloon.

“So now, tell me, Henry, away from the forbidding figure of Bill Avery -- why did you really want this deal?”

Henry shrugged. “I made a mess of things, and you’re a good businessman. Maybe this isn’t the life I need anymore.”

Lucas put his whiskey down on the wood and stared squarely at his companion. “Henry, I trust you. I trust you because Elizabeth trusts you. I don’t think you’re trying to pull the rug out from under me, but I also don’t believe that reason for a second. Why would you step back from a fortune in military payments when all you had to do was show me the books?”

Henry swirled his glass thoughtfully. “Bouchard. French Canadian. 34?”

“32.”

“Oh, weren’t those the days?” he smiled self-deprecatingly. “The military may bring fortune, but wartime often does not. Particularly not to young men or young wives.”

Lucas’ eyes lifted as he gradually recognized the other man’s meaning. “And soon involuntarily so,” he continued with a soft wonder in his voice.

“Unless a tribunal finds those young men to be of better service to the war effort through other means.”

Lucas was overtaken and could not find an adequate response to the amazing gift he had just been given. Henry too could say no more. Instead, the two men, in keeping with their mutual habit of offering few unguarded words, tipped their heads and glasses to each other in an understanding silence.

*******

Later that night, Abigail had closed up the café and gotten Cody off to Robert’s house for the evening – one in a series of outings and sleepovers to make up for time lost – when she decided to call on Elizabeth, though she was not sure if the visit was intended to distract her from the outcome of Henry’s case or to casually find out what the outcome was. Bill had come briefly into the café just ahead of the dinner rush to take a scone back to his office, but when she’d looked at him expectantly, he’d simply huffed and thrown up his hands at some invisible absurdity, then left.

When Elizabeth answered the door, her cheeks were a very charming shade of red.

“Abigail!”

Peeking beyond her friend, Abigail could see the reason for this maiden flush.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know you would have company, though I should have realized. I’ll find you in the morning.”

“Certainly not; it is I who should go,” Lucas interjected. “I just came to say hello to Elizabeth and Little Jack before his bedtime, but I have plenty of work I need to get to in any case.”

“The saloon has seemed even more bustling since you brought on Gustave,” Abigail agreed.

“Ah, kind of you to say, but I meant my new job, with Gowen Petroleum.”

Abigail did a double-take. “Gowen Petroleum?”

“Abigail, have you not heard?” Elizabeth gushed. “Henry settled with Lucas for majority ownership and made him manager!”

“My goodness,” Abigail took in a sharp breath. “That must have been some case for him to have to negotiate away so much. Is what he kept from you so awful?” she asked, growing upset.

“Oh no, quite the opposite. The oil business is booming and he brought me aboard willingly,” Lucas smiled. The news seemed to affect Abigail in some confusing way, and Lucas and Elizabeth shared a glance.

“Abigail, had you talked with Henry about the company at all?” Elizabeth asked curiously, remembering their earlier conversation in the mayor’s office.

“As mayor, it was not my place to bring in my personal feelings to this matter,” Abigail repeated with some bitterness.

Elizabeth took another step toward her and took her hand, speaking gently. “And what feelings are those?”

Abigail shook her head slowly, unable to articulate an answer to the question. Elizabeth glanced at Lucas uncomfortably, and Abigail’s manners kicked in. “No no, it’s alright, Elizabeth. Whether Lucas was here or not, I don’t think I would know what to say.”

“Mayor Stanton,” Lucas cut in, “would you mind if I walked you back to town? I think it would benefit us both to discuss the settlement.”

The women were taken aback, but Abigail’s curiosity and grace got the better of her. “Thank you, Lucas, I would appreciate it.”

Elizabeth gave her suitor a questioning look, which he answered with a reassuring nod and a kiss on the cheek. 

When the unlikely companions had walked past Elizabeth’s hearing, Lucas began.

“Henry Gowen is a good man, Mayor Stanton. I don’t think I have to tell you that, as it’s my understanding you’ve always been one of his strongest advocates. But in case it’s been forgotten while you were away, or his pride has caused some harm, I wanted it to be said.”

“He certainly seems to have done right by you,” Abigail offered, still guarded.

“More than I can explain to you in this moment. You’ll have to trust me when I say that Henry gave me more than a piece of his business today. He acted selflessly, sacrificing quite a bit of money in the process, and Elizabeth and I will forever be indebted to him. Which is why I feel compelled to ask you to reconsider your relationship with him.”

“Relationship!” Abigail cried.

Lucas slowed. “I apologize for overstepping. It’s only that Florence has some old habits she has not broken. Rest assured, though, I doubt she herself knows how unusual it is for the mayor to call the head of an oil company about barrel prices,” he explained, trying not to grin.

Abigail was embarrassed and slightly offended. “Mr. Bouchard, I’d be grateful if you did not share any more of your suspicions with me.”

“Again, I apologize, but I must say I cannot regret it. It would grieve me to allow Henry’s character to suffer when he acted so nobly today, so please allow me to hazard impropriety for one final thought: You are an intelligent woman, Mayor Stanton. The depth of affection that Henry Gowen has for you is not lost on anyone, and it certainly cannot be lost on you. Whatever wrong he has committed or troubles he has not shared, I can say without hesitation that it was only for fear of losing you.”


	11. Chapter 6

Abigail passed the night restlessly, thinking of little but Henry. The ticking of the clocks may as well have been drumbeats, ushering her toward a battle for which she felt wholly unprepared.

Giving up on sleep, she walked out to the mayor’s office just before sunrise, distracting herself with pending business, and newspapers she had not read. Lucas’ meaning dawned on her just as the day dawned on Hope Valley.

She had been so very stupid.

She walked to a locked file where she’d hidden Henry’s letters, a temporary measure so that Cody would not find them once they’d returned home. She read the letters over again, laughing in places, sighing in others, and placing a hand over her heart. Folding Henry’s last letter so that it might fit inside the breast of her undergarment, she took out paper and a fountain pen and began to write, her heart warmed by his words against it.

***

Henry took his dinner in the saloon, kindly greeting those who spoke to him but otherwise keeping to himself. Somewhat to Lucas’ surprise he was not rustling a newspaper or working on accounts, but reading a book of poetry.

“Tennyson?” the younger man asked curiously.

“I myself must mix with action, lest I wither by despair,” Henry quoted bittersweetly, not looking up from the text.

“T’is not too late to seek a newer world,” Lucas responded with a suggestive glint. Henry’s face was unamused.

“Listen,” Lucas tried again, “I actually came over to let you know I’d like to start discussing business, but I can’t step away just now. In any case, I’ll certainly be interrupted if we talk here. Could we meet in your office in an hour or so?”

Henry might normally suggest the morning, but it was not a lie that he needed to occupy his mind with things not Abigail. It was also a potential way to exhaust himself so he might get more sleep that night. He therefore agreed, and Lucas excused himself back behind the bar.

When the time had passed and Henry had spent an hour more wallowing in his emotions – for indeed that was where his subconsciously poor choice of distraction had led him – he stood and looked over at Lucas.

“You go on ahead, Henry,” his partner called from the bar. “I’ll be right behind you after I talk with Gustave.”

“It will take me twice as long to get there anyway,” Henry grinned. Grabbing his hat and cane, he headed off down the road. Despite the summer and the dinner crowd moving back toward their homes, a chill still ran through the air. He bundled his coat around himself and pulled down his hat, anxiously pushing his body into his office as he arrived.

“Hello, Henry.”

His head shot up at the soft and unexpected voice. She’d already started a fire and was standing in front of it, framed by the light.

“Abigail.” The greeting was half hope, half caution.

“I talked with Lucas yesterday, about the settlement,” she started with an obviously purposeful tone. “He was quite grateful to you. Intent on singing your praises, in fact.” She paused but Henry said nothing. “Did you know that there are exemptions to compulsory military service, Henry?”

Henry saw no point in pretending he did not know her meaning, and closed the door in an abundance of caution so the conversation might be kept private. But though he knew she did not disagree with what he’d done, he misinterpreted her intent in coming to confront him.

“I don’t know if it will work or if it’s even what Lucas will want. But Elizabeth is too kind to suffer another great loss if it can be helped,” he explained. “You won’t have to worry about suffering me though, Abigail. I know that whatever we might have shared has been torn irreparably by my foolishness, and my recent actions were not meant to impress you.”  
  
“I know that, Henry,” she said sincerely. “That’s what makes them so impressive.”

Something swelled in him, but he pushed it down. Clearing his throat, he said, “I should tell you, Lucas will be along here any minute.”

“No,” Abigail said. “I don’t think he will be.” A flutter in his stomach.

Abigail took a piece of paper from a chair next to her, an almost playful smile hinting at her lips. “It occurred to me that in my preoccupations back east I had neglected to write back to your last letter, and I think that was quite rude of me. May I read my response to you now?”

Henry was overwhelmed with what was happening – was it really happening? The expectant twinkle in her eye rendered him motionless. He finally answered, awe-struck, “Of course.”

Abigail lifted the paper into her line of sight. “Dear Henry –“ she stopped abruptly and lowered the letter again. “You can make yourself comfortable first, Henry,” she told him.

“Oh, yes,” Henry said with a quick smile, his anxiety beginning to ease in the presence of her charms. He hung his hat and coat and sat in another chair near the desk, facing her. Hamming a bit as he propped his cane and settled himself, he finally looked at her and made a gracious gesture for her to continue. She lowered her head in thanks and started again.

“Dear Henry,

You are, without a doubt, the strongest man I have ever known. People like to talk about sacrifice and penance, and they pray for redemption, but you are the living work of it. You have strived each day to be better, even when few took notice, and that takes a courage so rarely found. My admiration for you is beyond what I can ever express.

And yet, you seem not to know how extraordinary you are. You are always presenting yourself as somehow unworthy of me, when the truth is I am the one who has shown weakness at every step. I have been afraid of being too vulnerable. I have been afraid of giving you too much. I have been afraid of being in love with you. I have been afraid of it for seven years. And when I saw an opportunity to retreat back into those fears, I am ashamed to say that I gave into my weakness once again.

So I am asking you now, Henry, to share your strength with me, so that I might deserve the greatness of your love. And I will offer you my strength, such as it is, in whatever life brings. You will have my faith always, and my heart forever. I am no longer afraid to give what was, in truth, lost to you long ago, because I know that you have kept it safe all this time.”

She slowly lowered the letter and met his eyes, full of feeling. She knew the last bit by heart:

“I am yours, Henry, and I always have been. And I pray that I remain, your dearest Abigail.”

Henry was silent, a hand covering his mouth. After a moment, he pushed himself up out of the chair, moving carefully off his injured leg.

“I take it you’re not going to let me argue with any of that,” he said with a sly look.

“Not a chance,” Abigail shook her head.

He nodded knowingly, coming closer to her. “Only one thing left to do then, I guess.”

She smiled as he grabbed her around the waist, lifting her up into a perfect kiss. The kind of kiss that flowed through their bodies to engrave itself on their souls. A kiss whose passion came not from longing but from knowing – knowing that its joy would be felt again and again, as they returned to each other always.

Henry loosened his grip, continuing to pepper her lips with little kisses as she slipped down to the floor. They both laughed as they broke apart, and Abigail brushed away a tear. Looking up at Henry, she gave a tender smile and gently wiped her thumb across his cheek as well.

“So,” she exhaled. “All the rest of your days?”

“Hmm?”

“That’s what you said in your letter to me. Something about all the rest of your days,” she said, feigning cluelessness.

“Oh, that!” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t read too much into it,” he teased, leaning down to kiss her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
